Una's shoulder blade felt the full brunt of a shield, and she fell forward into the mud and blood. She turned around quickly, pinpointing who struck her from behind. He was coming swiftly down with his blade, shining crimson in the light of midday sun.

"You bastard!" Una bellowed out as she held her shield up.

The soldier came down on her shield again with the full force of his blade. He would not let up. Slowly, Una's shield began to splinter and crack. Una's shield she owns back in the mountains of Snowdon was made of bronze. This shield was heavy oak with leather, painted boldly to distract the eye.

"Damn you!" Una screamed.

She crouched down in a squat and pushed up as hard as she could. She propelled her shield up as high as she could until she slammed into the man. She then pierced her sword through the crack that the soldier made and felt her blade slice into him. He let out a blood-curdling wail as she ripped the steel out of his neck. She dropped her shield and busted the blade out of the wood. She watched as the man fell to his feet, gargling and moaning in pain as his life force left his body.

Una heaved. Her breaths were healthy and quick. She might have died if the shield did not hold as long as it did. She wished she had her old shield. It was stronger and lighter.

"Una!" She heard someone cry out in the distance.

She turned and saw a few soldiers coming toward Gareth. He was on his horse now, galloping toward her. She looked around to make sure there were no more soldiers after her. A twenty-foot radius of bodies stacked two feet high that Una had plowed through with her sword. It was not her Ulfberht sword, but it still did a beautiful job giving these men a quick death. Gareth's horse approached but reared around the bodies. It would not trample over them.

"Let's go. Ingrid and Laurel are waiting!" He said.

"Don't wait for me, go ahead of me! Let me take these men!" Una called to Gareth as she saw a group running towards her.

She quickly jumped over the bodies, running the opposite way of Gareth. Gareth hesitated, but he knew he must meet with Ingrid and Laurel again. Ingrid and the archers went first on horseback, then the archers on foot. This was followed by Laurel's men, the spear wielders. They would impale the ones headed for the archers on foot. The rest of Laurel's men stayed behind Una and Gareth. They were the last ones in. Alaric floated around, looking to drag off any injured soldiers who called for help with his men.

"Go!" Una screamed as she sliced her sword across the first man's sword arm, chopping it in half.

Gareth watched from a distance, hesitating to go. She was all alone out here with these men, and her horse Gwen was nowhere to be found.

The partially severed arm swung violently. Blood spewed out of his arm as it dangled freely, bashing against his side. He cried out in a terrible roar as Una ran up to him and drove her sword deep under his armpit, turning it as it pierced his heart. She took her boot and pushed his body away from her sword as she released her blade out of his chest cavity.

Gareth finally cracked the reins against his horse and trotted forward, moving into the woods surrounding the field. He could see a great fire in the distance had started to drive the pendragons back from pressing further into their territory.

"Come on!" Gareth beckoned his horse as he propelled into a full gallop.

Una watched as he disappeared, and she returned to the three men running to her in different directions. She held her breath and waited till the last second, observing that they all used swords shorter than hers. Before they could pierce her at the same time, Una twisted her body around with her sword high in the air. She aimed it horizontally and spun, feeling her sword crack through the tendons and bones of their necks. Blood poured out like the river from the gaping slits in their necks. Two of them fell to the ground, paralyzed from Una severing their necks deeply. Only one stood, with a hand on his neck and the other still pointing his sword.

She had noticed that their helmets were useless because they only dipped down in the back to cover the end of their heads, not the front. If she could nick the front of their necks, they would bleed out and die. This time she could cut deeper since they were close and could not touch her with their short swords.

Una watched as his hand trembled. His throat spurted blood out between his fingers. They slipped against the scarlet red painting his pale skin. He was brave to be still standing, not running. He would not move, however. Una watched his eyes through his helmet. He was close enough to pierce his sword through Una, but he didn't. Una had her sword to her side. She could hear the men on the ground. They had grown silent.

"I hate you." The man said, barely getting it out without coughing blood.

Una sighed and looked deeply into his eyes.

"Me too," Una said as she let her posture slump a bit from the weight of her armor.

She grabbed the side of her helmet and pulled it off, revealing her face to the man. He gasped and dropped his sword as he collapsed on his knees, trying to hold his neck close.

"You're a warrior, not a soldier," Una said, crouching down in front of him.

He tried to say something but could not get it out. He started to whimper.

"A soldier is told what to do, but a warrior knows what to do without being told. You didn't run like everyone else." Una said softly.

She slowly put her arm up to him, and he did not make a move to grab his blade. Una moved forward with her hand, lifted the back of his helmet, and pulled it off his head. A beautiful ripple of red waves fell out over his collar bones. He had a young and handsome face and the bluest eyes Una had ever seen, bluer than even Frey's eyes. His eyes were filled with sadness, though, not rage like most of the men Una encountered today when they lost their helmets.

The man whimpered again, like an injured stag. His eyes filled with tears. He could see Una's crown and that her face was a woman's face. It made him want to be home with his wife and his children, whom he knew he would never get to see again. He was forlorn and distraught. He tried to kill this person in front of him so he could escape and run away without anyone spotting him. Gareth's army had wiped out nearly the entire army. All that was left were the best. He was one of the best swordsmen, but nothing could have ever prepared him to meet this woman. She had the terrifying stealth and agility he had ever seen in a woman. He was almost home, and this was the final battle. They had been fighting for ten days straight. They were all weak, hungry, and cold.

"You don't want to die," Una said, staring into his piercing eyes.

His lip trembled, and a stream of blood dripped from the side. He slowly nodded his head. His rosy skin was turning paler by the second. He shook his head to say no. He did not want to die.

"Una!" She heard another voice call out to her, Alaric's voice.

Alaric approached, quickly running to her.

"What are you doing!?" Alaric demanded.

"One of our men is injured over there." Una nodded in the direction.

Alaric didn't hesitate. He could hear him moaning in pain even from a far distance. Una knew that man wouldn't make it, though. The wound in his thigh was too deep and wide to be sutured and wrapped.

Una grabbed this man's hand in hers and held it close.

"I'm sorry," Una said.

She didn't know what else to say. He just whimpered again and fell forward against Una's shoulder. Una wrapped her arm around his back and held him there. He was shaking violently. The blood kept flowing out of him. She could feel its warmth on her thigh, seeping through her long tunic.

"Una!" Alaric called out.

Una turned, looking at him, and she could feel the tight grip on her hand loosen.

"Wait!" Una said as he fell forward on his side.

"Oh, oh no," Una said solemnly as she knew that his soul had left him finally.

His body was lying limply across her lap. Una bit her lip and closed her eyes.

"Una, let us go, now! There's nothing for you here anymore." Alaric said, walking over.

"I'm sorry," Una said brokenly as she slid out from under the bloodied body.

She gently set him down on his side and stood up. She could hear the distant clatter of metal and the blazes of fire.

"Hurry, before the fire rages too high and we can't get through!" Alaric implored Una.

Una put her helmet back on and grabbed her longsword.

"Alright!" Una said, and Alaric whistled for his horse.

He came running through the woods toward Alaric. The poor horse had an arrow lodged into its rump, but it did not impede its movement. It was a tall and brawny horse, like Una's other horse Roosa. Alaric spared no time jumping on the steed's back and offered a hand to Una.

"Good heavens, I didn't realize how heavy all of this armor is." He laughed, knocking on his silver and bronze helmet.

He lifted Una with ease and sat forward in the saddle so she could sit comfortably behind him.

"It takes some getting used to," Una said as Alaric trotted his horseback into the woods away from most of the bodies.

He cantered his horse toward the flames with no hesitation.

"Hold on tight!" He said to Una as she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist.

The horse hurdled over the flames, jumping over them, something Roosa or Gwen couldn't do. She could smell the stench of burning hair. She looked behind her to see the horse's tail scorched. She didn't even want to think about its feathered fetlocks.

"We just have this little skirmish left. After this, it is a home stretch to the town and then the castle." Alaric said with relief.

They were exhausted and beat. Una was covered in scrapes, bruises, and even some deep cuts. The air was so cold that they could barely feel their hands. It was a miracle that Una could hold her sword for as long as she could. They had to build a fire with coal tar as a last resort because the snow had melted into the dirt, making it a mud pit. Nothing would catch a flame. They hand to dump the bodies in a line and light them.

Everyone had miraculously sustained minor injuries. The only one who got hurt was Laurel. A sword hit him in the back of the head and left him unconscious. Everyone thought he had died until Ingrid found him. There was only a dent in his helmet, luckily. He nearly escaped the last battle with his life. Now, this was the final breach before reaching the town and in the heart was a castle. That is where the king was, and that's where Gareth will claim his territory once and for all. The Pendragons will finally have their reign of oppression and terror end.

Suddenly they could hear screaming in the distance. It was a woman's voice, a high-pitched and piercing voice, yet so familiar. They could listen to it above all the other men screaming and fighting.

"That's Ingrid!" Alaric shouted as he galloped his horse out of the woods into the battlefield.

"Alaric, stop! You'll be killed!" Una said, looking at the horde of men coming down the hill towards their army.

"She's in trouble!" Alaric exclaimed, knowing Ingrid's sound of terror.

"Alaric, don't it's too dangerous!" Una said, but Alaric wouldn't listen.

They carved their way up the steep slope of the hill into the heart of the action. Atop the mountain, Alaric stopped his horse and searched for Ingrid. Una looked into the distance. Far away, nestled on a large hill, was the castle. It was so close yet so far away. They could see the archers in the front with their horses, decimating the pendragon army's front lines. Ingrid would be somewhere in that line.

Mixed in was the spear throwers of Laurel's army. They were even more deadly, spearing many men at one time like fish on a skewer. The field was colored faintly of black and red. The smell of putrid blood was burning through the air. So many were dead, the grass barely showed. Horses, humans, and abandoned weapons littered the field like a mosaic crafted by death itself. It was a sight Una had seen many times and each time hoped she would never have to see again.

"There she is!" Alaric spotted her, but his voice seized.

"Oh, God." His words broke.

"Alaric!" Una shouted, jumping down to cut through a man's leg aiming for the horses' back legs.

It was already too late. The horse was falling as Una ripped her blade out of his thigh. She stuck her steel up under his chin and pried her sword into his jaw until it cracked. He screamed as Una watched Alaric pay no attention to his fallen horse. He abandoned it and ran into the storm of archers, spear wielders, and crazed Pendragons drunk on the blood of the fallen.

"Alaric!" Una screamed over her shoulder as she pushed her blade into the man's head, ending his life.

She ripped her sword out and slung the blood across the ground as she ran after him. She could see Gareth fighting now in the back, nearing where Alaric was running to. As more men came to strike at Una, she called to Gareth.

"Gareth, grab him!" Una screamed as loud as she could.

Gareth heard and looked around, but he was already fighting four men. He quickly beheaded one of them, gutted another, and slashed the feet off the last two before running to him. Una watched as three horses ran together across the field. Their tails were on fire. It was hell on earth. Gareth tried to grab Alaric, but Alaric could run fast, faster than anyone, even with his armor. He darted past Gareth and weaved around impending blows of silver and wood.

"Ingrid!" He cried, running to the front.

Una watched in horror. Was this going to be yet another great friend lost to the sword? She couldn't bear the thought. She became not only angry with Alaric but herself. She couldn't let another one die, not this time.

Rage consumed Una, where her calm disposition aided in her keen battle skills, she became unhinged now. She started to feel something else too, a strange yet familiar feeling. She exploded in a fury of anger. She became beside herself. She thought she was as powerful as Arawn.

She wanted to rip these men's hearts out and drink their blood while they gasped for air. She tried to swallow the very essence of their souls. She wanted it all now, and she will not have another die because of her.

"Rahhh!" Una screamed as loud as she could as she swept her sword around and beheaded anyone who stood in her way.

She deflected all advances towards her as she ran after Alaric. She cut legs and arms and necks and became uncontrollable. A strength possessed her blade Una never knew she possessed. She became everything she ever despised being called. She was a monster, a demon, a snake, even a bloodthirsty dragon.

She was everything hell had to offer to damn the souls who got in the way of her path to Alaric. Blood covered her face, splattering through her helmet's eye holes, dripping to her lips. She could taste the sweet tannins of the blood. It invigorated her. It was delicious, the elixir of death.

"Ahh!" Una screamed and then moaned with malice as she became high on tearing into the flesh of men.

She became crazed and cut everything down in her way like a woodsman. She cut four men down at the legs, and a horse with a pendragon mounted on top with one slash. He tried to run after her with his sword, but her adrenaline dispersed into every fiber of her being. She knocked his sword out of his hand with her sword and grabbed his neck, lifting him off the ground. She held him there, dangling until he choked from a crushed windpipe. She threw his carcass down and laughed. Then she charged into the field like a fearless Valkyrie as Alaric envisioned her being. She was reaping souls left and right so fast that hell would soon run out of space. She would cause hell to freeze over this day.

She made her way up to Gareth. He watched as she tore into the flesh of the pendragon army. She cut with so much might that chainmail busted and broke through from her blows. A smile consumed her face as Gareth watched her helmet get knocked away, and she didn't bat an eye. He was terrified at the sight of her. She wasn't human. She couldn't be.

"Yowl!" Gareth screeched as a man bludgeoned him over the head with his sword.

It dented it and made Gareth dizzy, but he could still maneuver correctly.

"You dragon sarders!" Gareth cried out as he cut the man who hit him down.

He turned and saw Una again. She laughed as she pierced men like a knife through butter. Gareth watched in horror as she became crazed and intoxicated by the blood she spilled. Eventually, men started to run from her. Her long braid had been cut at the end, and it flowed into a glimmering cascade of copper and gold. She looked like a Goddess but appeared as a demon in the flesh. She did not hesitate at all. Even when men would try to slice at her, she would laugh and end their miserable life with one blow of her longsword. She didn't need a shield. She took the blows on her body without flinching. She was bleeding badly on her neck, legs, and hands, yet she still stood firm.

Gareth turned and looked ahead, seeing men pouring from the top of the hill down. There were still so many coming for them. Gareth couldn't figure out who he feared more, the army flooding the field or Una. He could see Alaric on his hands and knees, crying.

"Alaric!?" He called out as he moved away from Una, carving up any man who came in between him and Alaric.

"Alaric!" He cried to him again.

Gareth stopped suddenly and froze, not even realizing that someone was sneaking up behind him.

"No, it can't be," Gareth said as a blade entered through his back.

"Ahh!" He cried out.

Suddenly hearing Gareth crying out made Una snap out of her trance, and she looked down at herself, bloodied and broken. She looked up. Men were fleeing from her. In the distance, she saw Gareth slumping over. A man was driving his sword deep into his back.

"Gareth!" Una cried with tears coming fast to her eyes.

Gareth looked upon his hands and knees. In the distance, he saw Alaric holding Ingrid in his arms. Laurel was trying to protect Alaric and Ingrid with his spear. Gareth coughed, and blood spewed out from his mouth. He knew he had been fatally wounded. He didn't care. All he wanted was to protect his people, his family, and his friends. The sword hurt terribly, but nothing was more painful than this. Gareth realized he had failed to protect the ones he loved most. For that, he deserved to die. He thought about the future of Wessex, what would happen without him.

"Gareth!" Una cried as she took out her dagger and sliced open the man's throat who stabbed Gareth.

She was mad with rage and stuck her hand in the bleeding slit and ripped his throat out. He fell rolling in pain, moaning as his lungs filled with blood, drowning. Una knelt and grabbed him, careful not to remove the sword just yet. She needed Alaric to assess the damage.

"Gareth!" Una cried out in terror as he rolled on his side on to Una.

His vision was blurring, and he could barely hear his own name being called.

"Gareth!" Una screamed, shaking him.

Gareth was fading, and so was the hope of Wessex.